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I don’t need to tell you that even one knight is a pain in the arse. They’re so holier than thou. Oh, look at me, I wear shiny armor and pick flowers for princesses. Pathetic. Always opening doors for people, showing off how gallant they are. Stupid losers. Anyway, don’t get me started on those lance-wielding worms. Gulliver, have you ever seen reference to these 50 Knights in any books?”

“Sorry, Beno.”

That wasn’t good.

As a scribe, Gulliver was a repository of old fables and legends from every far-flung corner of Xynnar. He’d traveled everywhere, always taking time to learn people’s stories. If he hadn’t heard of something, it meant that it was mysterious indeed.

“Anyone else got a clue?” I asked.

Nobody answered.

I hadn’t really expected to, but sometimes you have to put it out there. I guess I was just hoping providence would smile on us.

And then, an explosion rumbled through the dungeon.

CHAPTER 11

The sound boomed through the tunnels and vibrated all around us. I would have been more concerned, except explosions tend to do that in dungeons. It was why few of my traps involved things going boom, or its meaner older brother, kaboom. Structural integrity is fairly important when you live under tons of rock.

Stones crumbled from the ceiling. Eric brushed his hair back, shaking debris from his luscious locks. Tomlin looked skittish. Shadow looked surprisingly nervous too. She edged nearer to him, then realized what she was doing, and moved away.

“It’s Riston,” I said. I used my core vision to check the north face of the lair. “They’re trying to break through the doors.”

Another explosion, this time from the west. From the door that led to the Wrotun clan’s old cavern.

“Trying both sides, the stubborn buggers,” said Eric.

“Can they get through?” asked Gulliver.

I thought about it.

I’d used steel doors. One after another. They would hold against most attacks, but nothing was impenetrable.

Using my core vision, I checked the doors, and that was when I got a shock.

“Beno?” said Gulliver. “Everything okay?”

I faced Cynthia. “Tell me something...did Reginal or Galatee or Riston ever ask you to make some explosives for them?”

Cynthia shrugged. “All the time, for their mining projects. They have a quarry to the south.”

“Did they ever ask you to make something that would melt through steel when it exploded?”

“Well, yes.”

“And you did it?”

“I am the town tinker, Beno. I serve at Reginal’s pleasure. I owe that goblin more than you can ever know. If it wasn’t for him, I’d still be in shackles.”

“Damn it!”

“What is it?” said Gulliver.

“Riston’s blowing through the steel. He’s got a bunch of town guard gits helping him.”

“This one is also a town guard git, remember!” said Warrane, pointing at his combat leathers.

“Sorry, Warrane, but we’re in trouble. They’ve gotten through two doors. I can keep using essence to create more, but they’ll just keep blowing through them. Then, it becomes a test of whether I have more essence than they have explosives. Cynthia?”

Cynthia shook her head. “You probably can’t match them. I’ve been supplying Reginal for months. He insisted. If Riston had manipulated Reginal into giving him access, then he’ll have enough explosives to bombard your defenses for weeks.”

Another boom. The ceiling shook. A chunk of rock smashed onto Wylie’s foot. He hopped around, grunting in pain.

“This is not one of my nicest days, let me tell you,” I said.

Gulliver shrugged. “So just make a few traps, Beno. You know, a set of big, steel jaws with giant teeth. Or a pool of acid that gets larger every time it melts someone’s flesh.”

“Or a chamber full of apple skins,” said Eric.

“I eat my apples how I like. Is that a crime? My family was so poor that getting an apple was a special occasion. My brothers and I would share it. Kendler would get the most because he was the eldest. Lucilian would get the core. I’d get the skin. Some of my happiest days were spent with Ken and Luc, eating apple skins. I guess the habit stuck.”

“Your parents should have gotten you something you could share. Like a bloody tangerine or something.”

While Eric and Gulliver argued the finer points of fruit and which parts you should and shouldn’t eat, I focused on the dungeon. Using my mind-split technique, I could concentrate on both dungeon entrances at once.

At the north entrance, they’d blown through three steel doors. They were letting the sleeping gas vent outside before attempting each door.

On the western entrance, they couldn’t let the gas vent since that entrance was adjoined to a giant cave. So, they’d done something else. Something much worse.

Riston had sent a group of Yondersun children in first.

He sent five of them ahead, while each town guard also had three children with them. Their parents would never have agreed to their offspring being used as fleshy shields, of course, but Riston didn’t have a problem with things like permission.

I saw what he was trying to do. Riston knew that dungeon cores could see all parts of their dungeon. He knew I’d see the children, and he guessed what I’d do.

And damn it, he was right.

Begrudgingly, I gave a mental command.

Sleeping gas traps dissembled.

“We have a problem,” I said. “Riston is sending town kids to go first. I can’t use any traps. Can’t take any kind of risk of hurting them.”

“Riston,” said Gulliver, balling his fists. “So manipulative. So evil. So…”

“Clever,” said Eric. “I wished I’d thought of using children as a shield. Not only would their puppy fat absorb damage if it came to it, but most people are too squeamish to hit a child. The best fight is one you never need to have.”

This left me completely defenseless. Riston was blowing through the steel doors. It was taking

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